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I'm going to livetweet my very unremarkable Sunday morning with my pack of children. It's 6:04 am on the West Coast. I have 3 of 4 up and at it, with the first up at 5:22. Husband watching a show with the 2 that care. Baby wandering around. I'm unloading dishwasher.
Just heated up my first cup of coffee for the third time. This always sums of parenthood to me. Also, as I unload the dishwasher, I'm already loading it with dishes from last night that didn't get cleaned.
I'm now making breakfast. I mean, that's a generous word. It's the weekend, so the girls get a cereal of their choice and fruit. So, basically, I'm pouring them cereal. I feel that was acceptable in the 80s but now I should be making an egg dish. Whatever!
And baby just ate her breakfast of cheese, toast, watermelon and ice chips. This 14 month old has almost all of her teeth and loves ice chips. She's also climbing ladders. She's a giant. We call her "giant baby Holland."
I am making cup of coffee number two.
I'm having a fight with the 2 year old (who turns three in 12 days) about cereal. She went through 4 bowls before finding an acceptable bowl. We've tried three cereals, with and without milk. I bow down to her resilience and discerning palate.
The 2 year old is now playing on the floor with the parts for our mixer. The 1 year old is playing on the stairs. The 4 year old is still asleep. She's my sleeper. And the oldest - who turns 6 today! - is reading to herself. READING! IT IS A MIRACLE!
